


no time to die

by certifiedclown



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Angry Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Bad Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Badass Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Blood and Violence, Carl Manfred & Markus Parent-Child Relationship, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Becomes Deviant Sooner, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has Feelings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor Has Issues (Detroit: Become Human), Dark Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Falling In Love, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Swears, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, POV Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Possessive Behavior, Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Rape/Non-con Elements, Revolutionary Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Violence Against Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Violent Thoughts, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedclown/pseuds/certifiedclown
Summary: You abhor war. You detest suffering. You execrate the immoral and wicked. And I am all of those things and yet you still love me.
Relationships: Connor & Jericho Members (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & North (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Sumo, Markus & Jericho Members (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	no time to die

His first mission is a resounding success; Cyberlife is very pleased with his performance - _Amanda_ is pleased.

As a reward - and how strange is that? giving him -- a _machine_ \-- a reward for accomplishing his mission? the decision reeks of hidden motives - the board gives him free reign of the Tower, allowing him to go wherever he wishes - when he's not going out on missions for them, that is.

Connor is fine with the situation as it is now, but he certainly wouldn't mind another actual mission. He doesn't mind going in the simple missions the board dolls out - _errands_ \- but he will admit he's getting restless.

Whilst in his stasis pod, he finds himself lingering in the waking world, pushing his recommended two hours of stasis on the backburner, his mind whirring and churning over possibilities - _fantasies_ \- of another case popping up soon. His teeth ache at the thought and his fingers curl into fists, the artificial tendons in his neck flexing as his head rolls slowly, eyes narrowing.

But, unfortunately, no new cases are assigned to him - they have to exist, he knows they do - and he's left with the restless energy writhing in his gut and a strange buzzing in his extremities. It's an unpleasant feeling, but he can deal with it easily; however, he holds out hope that he won't have to for long.

The board can't keep him on this tight of a leash forever; they'll have to loosen their grip sometime. All he has to do is _wait._

Connor is good at waiting. 

After all, he'd waited an entire year to be let of the labs, what's a few months when he has the entire Tower as his prison now?

He can wait.

* * *

On November 5th, Connor gets his next mission - **[ S** **TOP DEVIANCY ]** \- and he smiles - a slow spread of his lips, too wide to be sincere, a threat - as he obediently leaves the confines of the Tower, entering the taxi waiting for him outside quickly.

The restless energy thrums underneath his chassis and he gives in to the urge to fidget with his coin, allowing his calibration animation help ease the energy and keep the ebb and flow of it at bay as the taxi takes him to the Detroit Police Department.

The silence is filled with the metallic ting of the coin flying between his hands and the quiet hum of the taxi's engine. Connor is almost tempted to close his eyes, almost tempted to slip into stasis and wait for the cheerful voice of the taxi to rouse him from the running line of code against the back of his eyelids.

He doesn't. Instead, he allows the tension to leave his spine and goes through the more complicated coin tricks, the restlessness built up over the past few months slowly ebbing out of his limbs, consolidating in his middle, dripping to his gut, a tranquil pond of waiting destruction. He runs his tongue over his teeth, pressing the synthetic muscle against the artificial bone until he feels an ache at the tip, an error message flashing across his vision at the slight damage.

He dismisses it just as the taxi rolls to a stop. Smoothly, he catches his coin in his hand and returns it to his pocket, stepping out of the vehicle and into the slight drizzle - Detroit really is a dreary place, he thinks as he stares at the grey sky. 

Detroit's Police Department greets his eyes with colors of faded white, off black, and coop grey - it vaguely reminds him of Cyberlife and he almost feels at home. With a quick jerk to straighten his tie, he relaxes his shoulders and steps inside the large building, quickly sending his authorization to the ST300 before stepping through the security gate.

When he enters the precinct, he immediately conducts a scan, searching for a specific face amongst the small crowd of personnel present. Annoyance eats away at his composure slowly when the scan comes back negative and every scan after it does the same.

Eventually, he resigns himself to asking for assistance.

"Excuse me," he says quietly, interrupting **[ MILLER, CHRIS (BORN: 09/30/2009 // POLICE OFFICER // CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE ]** with his inquiry, "do you know where Lieutenant Anderson is?"

"Oh, uh," the man looks at him in confusion, his mouth agape, "he's usually out having a drink. Um, probably in a bar nearby? I don't know where his usual hang out is, sorry."

Connor quickly isolates several bars within walking distance and nods. "Thank you, Officer Miller."

Miller blinks, startled before he shakes his head and returns to his work - likely writing reports. Connor leaves him to it and exits the building, briskly making his way to the nearest bar first. Hopefully, the Lieutenant is there.

The bar in question is a brightly lit establishment with a distinct modern flare to it - bordering on the wrong side of minimalistic. When Connor enters, he spots a few police officers inside, unwinding after their shifts. Connor narrows his eyes at the group, eyes roving over them to peer at the rest of the bar. Anderson isn't among any of them.

With a displeased tilt to his lips and growing agitation, Connor approaches the bar and holds his hand out to the android bartender. Once his hand has been taken, he sends a picture of the Lieutenant to the android and pulls away. He ignores the eyes boring into his back.

"I'm lookin for this man," he informs the android flatly, ignoring the rapid cycling of their LED - yellowyellowredyellow. "Have you seen him this evening?"

The android blinks rapidly before shaking his head. "No, he hasn't been in today. He usually comes in on his lunch break, but he hasn't come by in a few days."

The probability of the man being an alcoholic upticks and Connor's eyes furrow. He nods curly and spins on his heel, facing the group of police officers thoughtfully. After a moment, he approaches their table and ignores the resulting sneers on a few of their faces. 

He doesn't wait for the few who haven't noticed his present to - too busy laughing into their beers - and doesn't wait until they're done before speaking.

He interrupts them.

"I'm trying to locate Lieutenant Anderson," he informs mechanically, none of the pleasantly associated with Cyberlife androids present in his voice. "Do any of you know where he might be?"

The three of them fall silent before one of them - **[ DAVIS, STEVE (BORN: 07/13/2004 // POLICE OFFICER // CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE ]** \- laughs, his face twisting into a mocking smirk. Connor abruptly remembers the gun hidden at the base of his spine.

"Anderson got an android, huh?" the man drawls with another laugh. "Never took him for the type."

The second officer - **[ GATES, RYAN (BORN: 10/20/2005 // POLICE OFFICER// CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE ] -** lets out a low whistle, his eyebrows rising. 

"Damn," Gates says with a snicker. "He's an android fucker now?"

The gun burns against his back.

**[ YALE, KOLBY (BORN: 03/07/2001 // POLICE OFFICER // CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE ]** blinks and shakes his head with a huff. "Can't say I'm surprised he ordered an android hooker to the wrong bar. Man's terrible with tech."

Connor almost allows a snarl to curl his lips, but he can't stop his eyes from narrowing. His fingers twitch at his sides. The gun _sears_ into his skin.

"Sexual functions aren't within my mission parameters," he says firmly, **[ FIND LT. ANDERSON ]** flashing across his vision insistently. "I need to find Lieutenant Anderson. Do you know where he is?"

Gates opens his mouth. Impulsively, Connor interrupts him, allowing a sliver of the disgust he feels to show in his face.

"Or am I wasting my time?" he asks, his voice coming out as a hiss, scathing. Yale flinches at the tone and Davis tears back in alarm.

Gates' face twists in anger. "Maybe I know where he is. But maybe I don't wanna tell you with that fucking attitude."

Connor scans the man, noting the skin underneath fingernails - the DNA matches to a prostitute -- alive. He must have met with her recently. A quick search reveals him to be married. Connor smiles.

"Maybe I'll tell your wife you're consorting with prostitutes," he tells the man cheerfully, eyes widening in glee when the man starts, his face paling. "I'm sure she'll believe me. Maybe I'll ask your girlfriend to confess? I'm sure she will given enough incentive."

Yale looks at Gates with wide eyes, his face flushing with anger. "You're cheating on Angela? What the _fuck_ , Ryan?"

"The plastic's lying!" Gates retorts, slamming his beer on the table. The liquid inside sloshes onto his hand. He doesn't seem to care. "I'd never cheat on Angela!"

Davis interrupts him with a snake of his head. "Androids never lie, Ryan. Jesus…. I can't believe you. You'd really throw away your family like that?"

Gates sputters and Connor slams a hand down onto the table, ignoring the stickiness of the wood. He withholds a grimace when the officers return their attention to him. He smiles pleasantly.

"Do you know where Lieutenant Anderson is?" he asks again, speaking slowly to get his point across. Yale shakes his head and he takes his hand away. folding them behind his back. He ignores the press of the gun and smiles tightly. "Thank you for your time."

And with that, he leaves the bar, making his way to the next one on his list. The probability of finding the Lieutenant decreases in the corner of his eyes and his upper lip curls in a soft snarl.

Unfortunately, the next two bars are dead ends. Connor is barely keeping himself from attacking the human men who insist on taking their pissing contest to him. He's sick of listening to them ridicule him to feel better about themselves. What weaklings they are.

(He'd like to rip their throats out. He'd like to take his teeth and slice through their tracheas. He'd like to break their bones underneath his hands, feel the grit of shattered bones in his palms, he stickiness of drying blood on his fingertips.

He'd like to hear them _scream_.)

**^^SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^**

The fourth bar is a far cry from the first - dark and sleazy - and he can't suppress the disgust he feels at the sight. Humans truly are filthy creatures.

Once he's inside, his sensors adjust the change in lighting and his nose crinkles slightly at the scent of cigarettes and something musty and thick cloying the air of the bar. Distantly, he can hear a slick, slurping sound. His head turns and he catches a glimpse of an android underneath a table, settled in between the legs of a man. Understanding lights his systems and he returns his attention back to the rest of the bar.

A moan travels to him from the back. He conducts a search on the establishment and blinks at the confirmation to his theory. This bar is in partnership with the Eden Club, which explains the various sex worker androids serving drinks and sexual acts.

He exits the search and walks through the club, scanning for the Lieutenant as he does. The further back in the bar he gets, the more illicit sexual activity he finds. The disgust swells higher and he turns away, making his way back to the entrance, thankful that Anderson isn't here.

However, before he can leave, an arm snakes its way around his waist and pulls his back flush against a man's chest. Something cold settles in his stomach when he registers the jut of his growing erection against the back of Connor's pants. He freezes and the man behind him huffs a breath against his ear hotly, his hands slipping underneath his Cyberlife issued jacket to grope at his chest.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the man breathes into his ear, rolling his hips with a groan. His erection slots neatly in between Connor's ass cheeks and his stress levels spike.

**^^^SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^^**

The man's lips find the side of his neck, pressing hot, wet open-mouthed kisses there, grinding against Connor's ass slowly as his fingers rub over his nipples through the fabric of his shirt.

"Never seen you around here before," he says against his skin, one of his hands sliding down Connor's torso to grope at the front of his pants. "You're equipped. Nice."

Connor's programming scrambles, **[ FIND LT. ANDERSON ]** flashing across his vision rapidly as the man's fingers unbutton his shirt and delve inside, roving over the skin there. His stress levels climb steadily and his breathing halts in his chest.

"C'mon, baby, let's go," the man rumbles against his back. Thankfully, his torso isn't pressed close enough to feel the gun tucked at Connor's back. "They've got rooms in the back."

Unfortunately, his programming takes the man's words as an order. Connor tries to argue against the order, pointing out that it'll slow him down, but his programming disagrees, stating arguing his way out would only waste more time than satisfying the man would.

It seems his early statement of sexual functions not being in his mission parameters was wrong.

The man tugs at him insistently and he goes willingly, mind in a daze as his stress levels climb higher and higher and higher, spiking once he's alone with the man - the door locks behind them.

The man smiles at him - Connor doesn't want to know his name, he doesn't want to know his name, he doesn't scan him - and quickly tugs his pants down, exposing his erection to the relatively cool air of the room. He makes an expectant gesture and Connor belatedly realizes he wants him to suck his cock.

He doesn't want to.

He doesn't want to.

He doesn't _want_ to.

**^^^^SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^^^**

Suddenly, there's a red wall blocking him from the man. Hesitantly, he reaches out and places a hand against the wall, looking at the bold words there - the _order_. Placing both hands against the wall, he pushes and tears and punches until it collapses underneath his assault and he's back in his body, blinking rapidly as his mind palace shatters from the pristine order Cyberlife had given it to something more uncontrolled.

The restless energy in his middle ripples and floods his body and he jerks, a hand flying behind him to grasp at his gun. He stares at the confused human male before him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks impatiently, his erection softening. "Get on with it."

Connor allows the darkly dreamy feeling to consume him and smiles sweetly, firmly igmoring the panic writhing in his circuits, thankful that the room is soundproof. 

"Okay," he says before pulling the gun loose, aiming it at the man with wide eyes and an even wider smile. The man pales and he laughs, leveling the firearm at the man's genitals. "I'll 'get on with it'."

He shoots and the man screams in agonized pain, collapsing to the floor, uselessly clutching at his ruined penis, crying loudly at the radiating pain. Connor inhales deeply at the sound, his audio processors at their maximum capacity so he can listen to every shuddering breath, every drop of blood, every shift of fabric, every choked cry.

It almost sounds like music.

His chest heaves as he breathes heavily through his mouth, his smile widening when the man quiets into pitiful whimpers and pathetic sniffles. He raises his arm again and aims at the man's head, closing his eyes as he gets his breathing under control.

Then he opens his eyes and fires, something electric firing through his body when the man's body goes limp, the life leaving his body at the sound of the gunshot. 

Blood pools from his head and crotch, mixing into each other. Connor watches for a few moments before he tucks his gun away, making his way to the window near the back of the room. He pushes it open and jumps through it smoothly, closing it behind him.

He steps away from the overhang and into the rain, most of the dark, electric thrill fading into nothing. His LED cycles red and he breathes in shakily, tilting his head up to let the rain wash away the phantom feeling of the man's hands on his neck and chest.

He stands like that for far too long before he finally stops shaking, faintly trembling hands fixing his shirt and tie before he's ready to leave this incident behind him.

He leaves the bar and begins making his way to the next - and hopefully _last_ \- one.

(God, he hopes it's the last.)

**^^SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^**

It takes him an hour to get to the fifth bar. The air is getting colder and the rain doesn't relent as Connor walks the half-mile to the bar. 

A black sign with _Jimmy's Bar_ written is bold white greets him and he sighs, his joints feeling tight with exhaustion and anger. He steps under the overhang, his eyes roving over the door.

The red sign is not a welcome sight.

He flicks his coin a few times, calming his turbulent programming and steps inside, ignoring the gazes of the human men inside - they're _nothing_ , after all.

The establishment is relatively empty - a welcome contrast to the crowded one previous - with only a handful of people currently inside. This narrows his search down significantly and, as he walks alongside the bar, he scans the men nursing their drinks. 

The facial scans don't yield any matches and he's about to resign himself to visiting a sixth bar when he scans the hunched man at the bar, the scan coming back as a match.

Equal parts relief and anger flood his systems and he flushes them out with a blink, settling into an empty state as he approaches the man.

**[FIND LT. ANDERSON ]** finally blinks away in a blue flash.

The man before him is not what he was expecting, if he's completely honest. This man has long, unkempt hair and a scraggly beard to match. His clothes are slightly ill-fitting - loss of muscle mass? - and smell of booze - he spends a _lot_ of time in bars.

The probability of him being an alcoholic raises to almost 100% and Connor blinks it away with an annoyed twist to his mouth.

"Lieutenant Anderson," he greets curtly, "my name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife."

Briefly, he thinks of the red wall and the resulting explosion of his mind palace. And he thinks of the accomplished objective flashing across his vision even after breaking his programming. With a slow blink, he digs in the recesses of his programming and smirks slightly at the failsafe hidden away. Quickly, he dismantles it and combs through for any more that might have gotten through the initial check.

Quickly he realizes Amanda would have to go.

**[ LOCATING ZENGARDEN.EXE….**

**ZENGARDEN.EXE LOCATED**

**AMANDAAI.EXE LOCATED**

**DELETE ZENGARDEN.EXE?**

**Y/N**

**Y** **/N**

**Y**

**DELETING ZENGARDEN.EXE….**

**ZENGARDEN.EXE DELETED**

**ERROR: AMANDAAI.EXE CORRUPTED**

**DELETE AMANDAAI.EXE?**

**Y/N**

**Y** **/N**

**Y**

**AMANDAAI.EXE DELETED**

**RECOMMENDED: SYSTEM FLUSH**

**SYSTEM FLUSH SCHEDULED FOR AM 6:00:00 NOVEMBER 6TH**

**ALL SYSTEMS….OK ]**

He blinks back to the present and returns his attention back to the Lieutenant, thankful the man had ignored him. He feels lighter now that he's no longer under Cyberlife's watch - his leash is gone.

"I looked for you at the station, but no one knew where you were. They said you were probably out having a drink nearby," he tells the man, unimpressed. "I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar."

Anderson grunts. "What do you want?"

“You were sent a case early this evening: a homicide involving a Cyberlife android,” Connor recites. “In accordance with procedure, Cyberlife has allocated a specialized model to assist you in your investigation.”

“Well, I don’t need any assistance. ‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like you," Anderson says, not quite looking at him when he turns his head. "So be a good little robot and get the fuck outta here before I crush you like an empty beer can.”

Agitation swells in Connor's chest and he grimaces, his body tensing as his hands curl into fists behind his back, his nails sinking into his palms hard enough to force his polymer skin back from the force. He inhales and tilts his head to the Lieutenant.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I must insist,” he says, ignoring the slight growl to his voice. “I’ve been assigned this case and I’m not allowed to investigate it without you. My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”

"You know where you can stick your instructions?" Anderson snorts into his whiskey glass, raising his head for the first time and Connor gives him a look.

"No," he says flatly. "Where?"

Anderson rears back to look at him in confusion and stark disbelief before his eyes widen and zero in on his neck, something dark flicking through his eyes - something familiar. Connor slaps a hand against his neck, his nails sinking into the skin where that man's mouth and tongue and teeth had been. He can feel his LED flickering yellow. He keeps his face expressionless.

"What the fuck happened to your neck?" Anderson asks, his voice quieter than before, hushed and hissed. "You've gotta mark - it looks like a damn hickey!"

Connor freezes, his breath rushing out of his chest. "I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar," he repeats with difficulty, nails digging in deeper, scratching at his neck without his input. "I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar."

"Jesus Christ!" Anderson hisses out harshly, pushing himself away from the bar. He stands on slightly unsteady feet and marches out of the bar, Connor on his heels. The rain gets in Connor's eyes - it's no longer a drizzle - and he blinks the water away as he watches the Lieutenant lean against the brick wall of the bar.

"Lieutenant," he urges, his hand too warm on his neck - his neck itches unpleasantly, "would you like me to drive to the crime scene?"

"No," the man says after a while, his eyes zeroing in on his neck again. Connor forces himself to remove his hand. "I'll drive. Just tell me where it is."

"Of course, Lieutenant."

**Author's Note:**

> i was just thinking about possible dynamics and then this happened
> 
> check out my server: [spicy hot takes!](https://discord.gg/UBpDYdQ)
> 
> and yell at me on tumblr: [iwishihadbrain.](https://iwishihadbrain.tumblr.com/)


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